Primeval Drabbles
by WittyWallflower
Summary: Various Primeval prompt-inspired drabbles. Pairings by Chapter: Connor/Abby, Becker/Jess, MAtt/Becker, Conby again, Connor/Stephen, another Conby, Stephen-Becker-Matt, Becker/Jess, Becker/Jess, Conby.
1. Chapter 1

prompt: your otp is now playing Rainbow Road

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

"Ugh Abby, why the hell would you choose this? It is the worst!"

"You begged me to play, Connor. Dozens of single-player games to choose from but you decided you were in the mood for Mario Kart. The least you can do is let me choose the track."

She was right, of course, and she had played patiently a half hour already. He couldn't start complaining now or Abby would walk away and refuse to play anymore. Connor smothered a sigh of frustration as his Donkey Kong went careening off the track almost immediately.

Normally he could trounce Abby easily in any game. He always held himself back a bit to make it fair; she hadn't put the hundreds of hours into the game as Connor had. But no matter how many times he played Mario Kart and no matter who else played it with him, he absolutely loathed Rainbow Road. Whoever designed this track was a sadist, he decided. One who didn't care how many friendships were destroyed by it.

Abby couldn't help but smile the third time Connor's character fell off the track into space and he groaned aloud. Honestly, the bright colors gave her a bit of a headache but it was the only course where she could hold her own against Connor's skill. She maneuvered Luigi around each corner, knowing her opponent would be racing carelessly to catch up and probably go flying once more.

Connor's grip tightened on the game controller, his knuckles going white as he tried to maintain control over both his player and his frustration. He did his best to hide his gamer's rage from Abby. At best, she would roll her eyes at him and at worst she would think he was insane to get so worked up over any game. Particularly a game he had played and beat countless times.

"HA!" Abby cried as her character rolled across the finish line. "New Best Time! Beat _that_, Connor Temple!" She tossed her controller down on the sofa and crossed her arms over her chest, sitting back to give him a very smug grin.

He grinned back, not even sullen over the fact that Donkey Kong had yet again pitched over the side of the track into space. It took serious cajoling to get Abby to play anything, but she usually had fun. It was worth all the begging and pleading in the world to bring a happy smile to her face.

"All right, I concede. Good job, Abs." He extended a fist towards her. She chuckled before extended her own, bumping her knuckles lightly against his. "One more race?"

"No." Abby's nose crinkled a bit and she popped up from the sofa. "I'm hungry. How about tea?"


	2. Chapter 2

prompt - Jess watching over Becker.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Becker pounded through the back alley after the creature,. He followed as it disappeared around a corner, only to run into an 8 foot wall blocking his path. The creature was nowhere to be seen. He needed to contain this incursion before it made it onto the busy streets of London.

"Jess, I lost it, the alleyways are blocked. I can't track it on foot, I need eyes in the sky. Can Lester authorize a helicopter fast enough?"

"No need, Captain. Give me a tick." Within moments Jess was connected to the CCTV network that watched over London. Soon the many screens before her showed different angles of the block where Becker hunted.

"Got it. It's circled back towards the anomaly. Go back to the last turning and head south-southwest till I tell you to stop."

Jess watched the feeds, tracking Becker as he followed her directions, trying not to blush when one gave a rather spectacular view of his bum.

A blur flashed by on a screen. And another.

She gasped. "Becker, stop!" He skid to a halt, settling into a reflexive crouch, his EMD primed. "There's more. More have come through the anomaly. We're pulling you out. Backup is on its way. The creatures are trying to flank you. I'll watch your six and guide you to your rendezvous point with Captain Henshaw."

Becker tried to respond to Jess' voice in his ear but she cut him off. He ought to have known he would regret explaining the various military terms she picked up over her comms or from the telly.

"Do not give me that look, Captain Becker. Personnel safety comes first, that is _your_ rule. If you like, I can get Lester in here to make it an order.'

His sharp eyes quickly located the camera trained on him and as he gazed it, Jess almost felt he could see her from where he looked out of her screen. With a rueful shake of his head, he stood and began to retreat.


	3. Chapter 3

prompt - Matt/Becker - one character freeing another

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Becker. Becker? Dammit, Becker, don't you do this to me!"

Captain Hilary Becker knew that voice and struggled to swim out of the fog of pain that had engulfed him for days. A sharp slap to his face effectively cleared his mind and made him groan as he opened his eyes to see Matt Anderson standing before him. Behind him on the floor lay the bodies of Becker's captors.

Matt's brow furrowed in concern but he felt his knees go weak with relief to see Becker was still alive. He'd searched for a week before finding the dank room Becker had been locked in, shackled and suspended from the ceiling.

"Thank god." Becker's voice was hoarse and broken but his spirit lifted.

Matt embraced him and pressed his forehead to Becker's as both men said silent prayers of gratitude that it hadn't been too late. Becker's eyes drifted closed again as he leaned into the comfort of Matt's solid warmth, but the other man pulled away.

"Stay with me, H.J." Another slap, gentle this time, brought his eye's back to Matt's. "I need you awake if we're going to get you out of here."

He stepped behind Becker to examine his bonds, looking for a way to free Becker from the shackles on his wrist. His hand on Becker's hip steadied and reassured the other man as Matt tugged at the chain looped over a hook on the ceiling. The toe of Becker's boots just barely hit the floor.

"If I can just you unhooked, we can get out of here." Searching about the room, Matt found the remains of a packing crate. It was in pieces but a few inches was all he needed. He wedged it beneath Becker's feet and instructed him to stretch for all he was worth.

Matt strained to reach but fell short. Thankfully the barrel of his gun was just long enough to nudge the chain off the hook. He threw his arms around Becker to support him but was unable to bear the larger man's weight and they both toppled. Matt managed to twist beneath him, sparing Becker's tortured body the impact on the hard stone floor.

The agony in his arms and shoulders, extended for too long, drew a primal scream of pain from Becker. He bit off the cry and clenched his teeth, struggling not to pass out on top of Matt as spots swam before his eyes. Becker's body wouldn't obey when he ordered it to stand. He panted raggedly and each movement sent a trail of fire through his upper limbs as he shifted.

"Don't." Matt ignored his own aches at the fall, the difficulty breathing with Becker laying on his chest. "Wait till the feeling returns. Catch your breath. You'll need your strength if I'm going to get you back to the ARC."

When Becker began to tremble, from shock and pain, Matt's arms settled around him and held him still, kept him warm.


	4. Chapter 4

Conby - a drabble about one character mourning another character's death.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

A quiet knock and the door opened on Captain Becker. He gazed steadily at Abby Maitland, his face stony but his eyes pained.

Abby glanced at him for only a moment, otherwise she didn't react. It felt like she was in a fog, miles away from everything happening in the world. Everyone passed, muffled, far out of reach.

A hand settled on her shoulder. Against her will she looked up at its owner, knowing it wouldn't be Connor but that didn't prevent the sharp stab of pain that penetrated her silent shock.

Abby was choked by a short, ragged gasp as she sensed the weight of grief hidden behind that curtain of emotional mist. She almost crumpled into herself. Becker crouched in front of her, taking both of her hands in his. Gently chafing her icy fingers, he examined Abby's glazed eyes, seeing things he was only too familiar with from his own mirror. Shellshock.

If she ever recovered from losing Connor today, there would still be Post Traumatic Stress to deal with. How does anyone come to terms with seeing the person they love most in the world attacked by a voracious predator from the future? To holding their hand while the life drained out of them?

Becker removed his coat, draping it around Abby and coaxed her to stand. She moved when he prodded her gently, raising her arms mechanically so he could bundle her in and zip the warm garment. With one arm around her shoulder he guided her, slowly so she could react through the haze protecting her mind from the shattering grief to come.

With a painful swallow, Becker regarded her as they slowly made their way out of the ARC. He'd never met anyone more ill-equipped to handle the emotional storm ahead. Even himself. Becker had been to war after all. He may not be good at handling emotions, but he'd been through loss many times before. He knew it far too well.

He pressed his lips to the top of Abby's head as he blinked away tears for the friend he lost today. He failed, he couldn't save Connor. But the job wasn't done. He couldn't break down until he saved Abby too.

Abby was lifted into Becker's truck, her seatbelt buckled for her as if she were a fragile child, and he got behind the wheel. As they neared the part of London where she and Connor had shared a flat for years, he felt her begin to shake. Becker reached out and gripped her hand gently. When he turned the other direction, her tremors subsided.

But Abby didn't surface until Becker led her into his own flat. She didn't speak but her eyes finally met his and Becker could see confusion in them.

"You shouldn't be alone." he murmured. "Home will be there when you're ready."

Pain bloomed within Abby at the thought of the home she shares, no.. had shared with Connor. She couldn't let herself go any further with that train of thought. Becker saw the glaze return to her eyes as Abby shut herself down emotionally once more.

Becker swallowed a curse, knowing what he had to do, what he didn't want to do. Locating a bottle of whiskey he kept on hand for poker nights with Danny, he poured a large measure and maneuvered Abby into drinking it. He knew she wouldn't, couldn't, open herself up enough to handle this without help. Several glasses of help.

When the liquor finally burned its way through her fog, Abby didn't fight the wave of grief that swept her. She let herself sob brokenly, pouring out every bit of her heart's love for Connor. Lost to the world until the early morning, she lay curled on the couch, her head on Becker's lap and her tears soaking his knee. He brushed the hair from her face, and his own tears from his cheeks. When Abby quieted, neither spoke. Neither moved. And the first new dawn without Connor Temple came.


	5. Chapter 5

connor/stephen - stuck on a spaceship that's broken down IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE. go. (doctor who crossover)

"Can you fix it?" Stephen asked irritably as he stood over Connor who was flat on his back under the instrument panel. The only response he got was the whir of a sonic screwdriver. "Well?! We're sitting ducks here, Connor."

Connor pushed himself out from the tangle of wires, exasperation written all over his face. "I'm _trying_, mate. This isn't a child's toy I'm retooling here! I can't work with you hovering over me like that. Go lift the blast shutters and watch for aliens or something."

Stephen chewed his frustration while Connor disappeared back under the panel. Too tense over their vulnerable position and limited oxygen supply to stand still, he finally stalked off to obey, grumbling under his breath "Some genius, can't even fix a broken circular filter."

Connor wore a grim smile as he worked. Genius, eh? Maybe Stephen liked him a bit more than he let on. Well, they certainly couldn't die before he got Stephen to admit it. Perhaps if he bypassed the safeties and accessed the micropetrol drive directly… With the connection made, the engines hummed to life and Connor laughed. This fix should get them to nearest inhabited moon before the air ran out, if it didn't malfunction blow them up first. Allons-y!


	6. Chapter 6

Abby woke shivering beneath the covers. She tried to burrow deeper seeking elusive warmth, but when she opened her eyes she could see her breath, visible in the moonlight peeping in her window. It was utterly freezing in her room! Crawling out of bed, she dragged the blankets along, wrapping their warmth about her as she padded into the living room.

It was a frigid night, the wind was howling fiercely, but she had turned the heat up just the other day to keep the lizards comfortable in the drafty flat. Tapping the heat controls, she sighed. The controls were fine, which meant the heater itself was the problem. She knew nothing about the system and a repair specialist would be hard to find at 3am. Abby chewed on her lip as she turned to regard her animals. She turned all the sunlamps off at night, but they'd have to go back on until the heat was fixed or the lizards wouldn't be able to cope with the cold.

She tiptoed over, the cold floor torture to her bare toes. Flipping on the bright heat lamps above each cage as quickly as she could, she then scampered over the sofa and threw herself down on it. She was shivering violently as she tucked her toes beneath the blankets from her bed and rubbed them vigorously to warm them. Snagging the throw blankets on the couch, she drew them up over her head. Soon the air trapped beneath warmed around her and her shaking subsided. She groaned at the thought of returning to her bed. Without her body heat, and exposed to the cold air since her blankets were currently wrapped around her, the sheets would be like ice.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

Connor rolled over in his bed, between dreams and only half asleep, and gave a mighty stretch. The blankets fell back from his arms and the cold air hit him in a rush, dragging him into consciousness. Pulling his arms back in and hugging the blanket close to his neck, he surveyed the room. As if he might be able to find the problem and fix it without having to get up out of his cozy bed.

But when he blinked the fog of sleep from eyes he realized he was now seeing the fog of his breath in frigid air. Connor's habit of leaving his laundry all over his bed rather than putting any of it away had worked to his advantage. With his entire wardrobe piled atop his blanket, he'd been well insulated against the dropping temperature. He also didn't have to leave the warm to grab clothing, no small favor since he tended to sleep in his Batman boxers. He put on a sweatshirt and pulled the hood up over his head before he reluctantly arose.

He hopped about awkwardly, trying to get socks on as quickly as he could manage and made his way out of his room. The lizard lights let him know Abby had been up too, but he didn't notice her sleeping form beneath the mound of blankets on the couch until he had crossed the room to check the thermostat for himself. When he approach the sofa he saw that one of her blankets had slid to the floor and an arm dangled free, but her wee blonde head was nearly lost in her nest.

He smiled as he plopped down next to her the sofa. Best wake her and send her back to bed, she'd be grumpy in the morning if she got a crick her neck sleeping without a proper pillow. But when he reached out to gently shake her awake, her feet felt like ice even through the blankets. Connor slipped his hands beneath to rub some warmth into them, but Abby didn't respond to his chafing hands.

With a small dart of fear, he was on his knees before her, pushing the blankets aside to find her face. He didn't draw another breath until he could see she was still breathing, but her cheek was cold beneath his palm. In the light, he'd swear her lips looked a bit blue. Shaken, he bundled the blankets tightly around her. Slipping his hands beneath her, he stood and made for his room with Abby in his arms. His bed was likely the warmest place in the flat right now.

Kicking aside the covers, he stripped Abby of her own blankets and quickly slipped her into the spot where he slept, still warm from his body. Her bedding was added the layers on top. Crawling beneath the covers, he slipped out of his hoodie, maneuvering Abby until he could zip her up inside of it. Then he ducked his head beneath the blankets and reached down to her frozen feet. He rubbed them briskly until her skin turned pink then transferred his own warm socks to her feet.

After a few moments her cheeks felt noticeably warmer and Abby shifted in response to his touch, turning her head aside on his pillow. Connor lay back besides her and stared into the darkness, letting his heartbeat gradually stop racing and return to normal.


	7. Chapter 7

prompt - _(write a Stephen meets Danny and Becker thing! (bonus getting drunk together. idk, I just want them to meet.)_

Matt takes Becker for a drink to try to talk him into rejoining the team. At the pub they run into Stephen who is actually from the past, having pursued Helen through a few anomalies. He thought he had finally found the his own time again but he was off by a few years…

Stephen Hart had been walking London for hours in the chill gray. So little had changed in the two years that had passed here since he followed Helen through an anomaly that it almost seemed like a bad dream, the weeks he had spent trying to find his way back. He wondered if this was the closest he would ever come to his proper time. Well, it beat the Silurian by miles, no matter what year it was.

What to do now? His flat had been let out ages ago and the building that had housed the ARC was no longer standing. After two years Cutter and the team had to have guessed he'd gone through an anomaly, the way he up and disappeared. They'd barely tolerated him after learning of his associations with Helen. They certainly wouldn't welcome him back now, even if he could find them. Everyone else he knew, well, what few people he could think of, would have so many questions. Why had he been way so long? Why hadn't he called or wrote? Where did he go without his passport? It made his head ache just thinking of dealing with that mess, trying to explain where he had been. His steps slowed as he came to the realization that avoiding everyone meant that he now had nowhere to go.

Pulling a hand from his jacket pocket, he ruffled his hair with a sigh. He glanced up just as the first raindrop fell to spatter on his face. A few more drops followed, then turned into a drizzle. Stephen turned up his collar against the wet and stuffed his fists back into his coat. Seeing the warm glow through the windows of a pub, he decided he might as well take the edge off till the rain passed. He still had his wallet and currency couldn't have changed that much since he left.

… … …

"Becker, we've both seen a lot of things. Been to war. Lost friends." Matt Anderson turned to look at the who sat besides him staring stonily into his drink. Captain Becker was reluctant to rejoin the ARC and really, Matt couldn't blame him. The ARC was dangerous to the people of the future as well as the present. But Whitehall and Prospero were determined to start it up again and Matt needed to be there to keep an eye on it. "But there's a job to be done and you are the best there is."

No response. Matt watched the other man drain his scotch and soda. He'd requested Becker to join him at the pub, hoping to get the man's measure. He needed someone in this time he could trust. It was midday so the pub was sparsely populated, one other man seated a few stools down from them at the bar and an older couple playing darts across the room. As Becker lifted a finger to order another, Matt took a pull at his pint and hoped the alcohol would make Becker a bit more approachable.

He waited until Becker took a sizable gulp of the refill before he broached a sensitive subject.

"I'm sorry about your team. We go into these situations knowing the dangers involved, but it never makes it easier to lose people. Don't you think they would want you to continue on with their work in the ARC? Professor Cutter-"

"Nick Cutter is just a name in a file to you, Anderson. Don't try to tell me what he would want, you never met the man." Becker's face was bitter.

Somewhat chagrined, Matt had to nod in response. "No, I didn't. Tell me about him?"

For a moment it appeared he wouldn't get a response. Becker stared straight ahead for a long moment, took a sip before he spoke. "Cutter was brilliant. Stubborn to a fault, had no respect for authority, and married the most psychotic woman in the country. He could be a damned pain in the ass to be perfectly honest, but he was the smartest person to bring into the field with you."

"You cared for him."

"I respected him. He was a good man, a good team member. They all were. All of them, brilliant and courageous." He sighed and Matt could almost hear the pain behind it. "Too courageous. They took risks because they felt safe. Because I was there to protect them. But I couldn't do it. Hire someone who can."

"They knew the risks, Becker. You can't foresee every danger, prevent every accident."

"It was my job to do so. It was my job to keep them safe and bring them home. And look how I managed. Cutter is dead! Danny, Connor and Abby are lost, God knows where. And I got Sarah killed trying to find them." Matt tried to object, tell Becker it wasn't his fault, but the other man was far enough into his cups that he wasn't having any of it. "I didn't just lose a friend. The entire team is gone, Matt! Gone. And its my fault!"

Agitated, full of guilt and angst, Becker slammed his drink down on the bar top. Too hard. The liquid sloshed violently out of the glass and flew everywhere. With a curse, Becker stalked off to the loo to wash the sticky liquor off his hands and forearms.

—

Stephen sat frozen, staring at himself in the mirror behind the bar with his glass half raised to his lips. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, tried desperately to tell himself he was hearing wrong. But as the taller man's voice has gotten louder, he couldn't keep denying it. Whoever these men were, they were speaking of the ARC, of Cutter and the team. Cutter… who was dead. He set his glass back down without drinking. He would never be able to swallow past the lump in his throat.

He shouldn't be so shocked. In the old days they had all faced death on a regular basis. But they had always come out of it more or less intact. How could the whole team be gone? Little Abby, a bundle of dynamite packed into a petite blonde and Connor who could barely stop staring at her long enough to work. And Cutter… his teacher, his mentor,... his friend. Nick was dead, and Stephen would never get the chance to make amends for his mistakes with Helen. He tried to collect himself and drew a ragged breath. This caught the attention of the remaining man.

"You'll have to forgive my companion. He's a bit worked up." The other man, Matt was the name he'd overheard, turned to him. Stephen stared dumbly at the fistful of napkins being offered to him before he realized his left arm was splattered with drink from Becker's outburst.

With a mute node, he accepted and dabbed himself dry. Matt had turned back to his drink but curiosity overcame Stephen. If they were all gone, no one else could tell him what had happened. He had to see what he could find out.

"Having a bad day, is he?"

"He's had a rough time of it. He's lost people who were… very important to him."

Matt was curt, but not quite rude. It would be tough to pry anything out of this one. He had that ex-military stoicism about him, not prone to chattering. Still, they were surrounded by social lubricant.

"That's a shame, I'm very sorry to hear it." Stephen hoped his hand wasn't shaking too noticeably as he grabbed his pint and finished it off. "Buy another round for you two?"

Matt's eyes narrowed slightly at the stranger but Stephen spoke honestly "I've lost some people too, very recently. I know how he feels. Thought we'd drown our sorrows together."

That top shelf liquor Becker was splashing all over didn't come cheap, so Matt nodded his consent. Stephen turned to order two pints and more scotch just as Becker returned. Becker seemed to have gotten himself under control, but Matt could tell it wasn't wise to push him any farther about the issue today. He would have to wear Becker down slowly, or risk him flatly refusing to return to the ARC.

"We've another round coming" Matt told him as he regained his bar stool. "Courtesy of…" He looked at Stephen questioningly as they'd not yet gotten around to introductions.

"St-," Stephen caught himself. A file on Cutter had been mentioned. It was a fair guess they had files on all the ARC members. "..Stuart. Name's Stuart."

… … …

For the better part of the afternoon the men sat at the bar, taking turns buying rounds. None of them discussed their sorrows further, but after a few drinks had muddled his mind and heart Stephen had decided he didn't want to know. The details would only make it harder to cope with the fact that he hadn't been there to prevent it. He wasn't sure he could have gained any information anyway. Becker had remained astonishingly tight-lipped, getting quietly drunk with no further emotional outbursts. It wasn't until the conversation had turned to football that he had shown any interest in Stephen. Or Matt. Or anything except his next drink.

They were in the middle of a rousing debate of the merits of Manchester United when Matt returned from a trip to the loo and announced it was time he and Becker left. Stephen shook their hands and offered his assistance in hauling Becker out to a taxi but the tall, dark, and very soused man took offense to the suggestion. Gaining his feet, Becker stubbornly insisted on walking himself out. The other two were actually a bit impressed he didn't wobble more. No one who had spent the day pounding drinks should be that steady on their feet.

But Becker did betrayed his inebriation. As they left the pub, Stephen heard him belting out, somewhat off-key, "_We're the pride of all Europe, the cock of the north. We hate the Scousers, the Cockneys of course! We are United…_" The voice faded out as the pub doors closed behind them.

Stephen almost smiled at that, but in light of the days revelations even the liquor couldn't improve his mood. All he could think about was his old team. They'd been through so much together, tiptoed to the very brink of death together on more than one occasion. They never gave up hope on him when he'd been poisoned by the Arthropleura, and he'd lost track of the number of times he had personally rescued the others from certain danger. They'd looked out for each other at all times. He tortured himself wondering what might have been different if he'd never left. They were gone. Was it his fault, because he hadn't been there to save them?

Stephen paid for the many rounds he'd bought and marched out. He had decided. He _did _have somewhere to go. He had to go back through the anomaly and keep trying to get back to his own time. Cutter, Connor, and Abby needed him. They were a team, through thick and thin, and he couldn't live with himself knowing he might have been able to save them if he had been where he belonged. Chasing after Helen had been a mistake. Everything about his relationship with Helen had been a mistake. When he found his way back, he would spend the rest of his life making his amends and protecting his friend. And he _would_ get back. If he had to go through every anomaly he encountered, if he had to battle Silurian scorpions again. Nothing was going to stop him going home.


	8. Chapter 8

_Prompt: Becker/Jess, a restaurant, and the color blue_

On Tuesdays they took lunch together. It started after Becker gave Jess a lesson in shooting and she'd insisted upon treating him to a meal as thanks. Feeling her gratitude was unnecessary, Becker had steadfastly refused to select where they should dine. Keeping her safe was his job and he didn't approve of how long she had managed to get away with not being formerly trained in self defense. Jess hadn't been able to decide for them, every place that came to mind she had argued herself out of just as quickly. Claudio's was too fancy, Secret Bakery was too casual, fast food was definitely out.

"We could always try someplace new to both of us." Becker settled the issue by taking her elbow and steering her out of the ARC and onto the street.

Career-driven and focused as both were, they had never paid much attention to the neighborhoods around their workplace. A few blocks past the anonymous office buildings that surrounded the Anomaly Research Center, they had discovered a quiet, shady street with a few small boutique shops, a tailor, and a hole-in-wall family-owned Japanese restaurant.

Remarking that she had yet to try sushi, Jess was utterly surprised to learn that Becker himself was an aficionado. He had always seemed rather a meat-and-potatoes sort of guy. Soon they were seated inside and his warm, strong fingers were on hers as he explained how to hold the chopsticks. She wasn't about to let him know she ate enough take-away Chinese food to know her way around a pair.

"However did you discover you have a fondness for raw fish and rice?"

Becker told her about his brief stint in Japan, a fleeting moment of relative peace and beauty before he'd been sent back to the Middle East. She laughed at his stories of old comrades who had lived on military field rations for a week before deigning to sample the local cuisine. Becker insisted she sample a roll before he told her what was in it and Jess was surprised how delicious eel could be. Mimicking his actions, she dipped the fish of her nigiri rather than the rice into the soy sauce and wondered if it was a particular etiquette or merely a personal preference

That had been the start of the love affair between Jess and sushi.

A week later the first craving hit. It niggled at her all day and her usual lunch seemed entirely devoid of flavor. When she was done with work for the day Jess headed straight for Kimura's, determined to satisfying the compulsion. A few rolls to take home to a bottle of wine and a bubblebath, what more could a girl ask for?

But she hadn't been the only one with the craving; she ran into Captain Becker as she entered the restaurant. They exchanged pleasantries and Jess noticed his smug half-smile as she'd studied the menu intently. But his order was ready within moments and he left to take his meal home.

A few days later, the desire for more dragged Jess out of the ARC at noontime. He ran into her as she returned with her goodies in paper box bearing the Kimura's logo. Becker was much too straight-laced to openly salivate over another person's lunch but she did catch him glancing it and suddenly wished she had thought to bring some back for him.

Having made a mental note to do so next time, Jess wasn't willing to wait for a craving to hit for the excuse. She waited exactly two days before dropping by the armory to _casually _ask if she could pick him up a bite while she was out. As Jess suspected, Mama Becker didn't raise a man who made a woman fetch and carry for him and she was pleased when he invited himself along. It was pleasant walking at his side, outside the ARC and away from the rest of the team.

The next week she had made the offer of fetching his lunch again with similar results, and the following week she didn't bother with the pretext. Before too long, it became an established routine. Without actually making the plan or setting a time, on Tuesdays they met at Kimura's when they got hungry.

When Jess got there first she always sat in a booth but wouldn't admit even to herself that it was in hopes of feeling his knee brush against herself under the table. In general Becker preferred to beat her there so he could seat them at the bar. Whoever invented the bar stool was clearly a leg man but Becker's poker face ensured Jess would never know how much he enjoyed watching the petite woman climb up on to the tall chair and primly cross one pretty little stocking-clad leg over the other.

But today he was running late. Literally running, and very noticeably late.

"Not very punctual, Captain." Jess called to him as he entered the restaurant.

"My apologies." Becker crossed to her table, making his excuses as he slipped out of his jacket and into the seat across from her. "I was planning to be here half an hour ago, but then Abby needed help in the menagerie and one thing led to another and I didn't get a chance to call. Did you order?"

Jess only gaped at him.

"Jess?"

"Wh-what are you wearing?"

"Hmm? Oh." Becker glanced down and smoothed a hand over the soft blue jumper covering his torso. "Things got a bit out of hand with the mammoth. That's why I was late, after a wash I only had a clean undershirt so i had to borrow this from Connor. Its a bit colorful but it fits well enough i suppose."

Jess almost choked and fumbled for her drink.

"Fit well enough" were not the words to describe it. She was having trouble thinking of any that didn't trend towards the obscene. Connor preferred his jumpers to be large and baggy so the fit wasn't as bad as she would have guessed, but he was lean where Becker was solid. And the blue knit clung lovingly to his muscular form. The color made his ever-changing eyes shine a color she hadn't seen in them before.

It wasn't until Becker sat back and stretched his arms along the back of the booth's upholstered seat that he realized the cause of that expression on Jess Parker's face. Her eyes followed the play of muscles in his shoulders, visible through the borrowed shirt. He pretended to smooth the shirt down, watching as her eyes followed his hands down over his abs before darting away as the blush crawled into her cheeks. Jess turned her attention to her drink but it wasn't long before her gaze was back on him.

"So, did you order?" Becker asked once more.

He had to school himself not to grin. She was so distracted by him she was having trouble following the conversation.

"Jess?"

Somehow she managed to drag her eyes away from his godlike form. Jess shook her head to clear it and snapped back the rest of her drink before she smiled at him.

"Right. Yes, I did. And you know what the price of leaving me to order is don't you, Captain?"

"Don't tell me. Asparagus."

She grinned cheekily and brandished her chopsticks with a flourish. Jessica's fetish for asparagus in her rolls was unrelenting. Becker had lost several arguments against its inclusion in their shared meals, but today he ate his half of the roll without complaint.


	9. Chapter 9

_prompt: one character cheering up another character - Becker/Jess._

.x.x.x.x.x.

Jess Parker was on edge. Many stressful days and late nights were wearing away her usual friendly cheerfulness and her coworkers were beginning to notice. Tension radiated within the Hub these days as people walked on eggshells around her. Connor stopped dropping by her station to show off his lasted high-tech toys, and she never had tea with Abby anymore. She was overworked to the point of irritability but she was so essential to keeping the ARC operating at peak efficiency that no one thought to insist she take a break.

Except for Captain Becker. He'd had his eye on her for a while now, noting as the shadows beneath her eyes got darker and her fuse grew shorter. Finally the day came when she lost her temper. As the team was prepping for the field, Becker strapped on his vest and checked his equipment before inserting his communications earpiece. Suddenly there was a fierce shriek of feedback through the line, like daggers into his eardrum. And Jessica's.

"OW!" Jess exclaimed as she ripped off her headset and frantically dialed down the feed from Becker's mic. "Oh for heaven's sake, Captain, are you trying to ruin my bloody day?! Honestly, you've used these comms enough, haven't you figured them out yet?"

"Sorry, Jess-"

She turned abruptly and presented her back to him before he could finish. As she replaced her headset with an indignant toss of her hairand fingered her controls, he heard her muttering darkly to herself about "soldier boys destroying all her best tech".

Captain Becker cast a long, contemplative look in her direction before he sighed and replaced his earpiece. He'd have to worry about Jessica later; right now he had a job to do.

.x.x.x.x.

Jess was curtly professional as she coordinated the team's efforts in locating and locking the anomaly. When they had swept the area and found no sign of incursion, Becker ordered everyone back to the ARC but informed base he'd be taking a detour during his return. When he made it back to the Hub, Jess barely acknowledged him, she kept her eyes on her screens as she held out a hand for his comms. But instead of placing his earpiece and locator in her palm, he slipped his hand into hers and pulled her out of her chair with a gentle tug.

"Captain, what-?"

"Need your help with something. Come with me." he said, giving her hand another tug as he set off for the corridors.

Well he could have simply asked, she thought with a huff. She clattered along behind him, concentrating on keep pace with his long strides, tricky in her tall heels. IT was a few moments before she noticed the bulging military-issue canvas bag he was carrying.

"Help with what? Whats in the bag?"

"Sorry, highly classified, can't explain now." Becker said, but Jess thought she saw one of his eyebrows raised in his uniquely subtle expression of amusement. Well if he wasn't going to say, she wasn't going to beg to know. After a few more minutes she realized he was leading her to the Menagerie. If Abby needed help, why hadn't she asked Jess herself? They had just seen each other in the Hub not a half hour before when the team returned ahead of Becker.

Her confusion mounted as their entered the Menagerie and Becker headed straight for the observation deck instead of Abby's office. She nearly ran into his back, not expecting him to pause at the railing above the mammoth's enclosure. Becker turned to her, setting the bag on the walkway and putting a hand on her shoulder.

"What's this about, Becker? I've got work to do."

"Work can wait. That's what this is about. You're working too hard and it is affecting your performance." He said, blunt but not unkind.

Jess was dumbfounded, for a moment utterly speechless. She poured every bit of effort and know-how into her job because she knew how important it was. Peoples lives depended on her. To have Becker standing here telling her it wasn't good enough… well, it hurt.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Captain." Jess's voice was cold and stiff at first but as she spoke, her temper flamed. "Perhaps you'd feel more comfortable with another coordinator. Though Lester will be hard put to find someone who will work their bloody arse off as I have!"

Becker's warm hand squeezed her shoulder gently, cutting her off before she could build up a good head of steam.

"Don't misunderstand me, Jessica. You are the best there is. But even the best can burn out. If you insist on overachieving and giving 110% of yourself at all times, there will be nothing left of you. You're already different from the friendly Jess Parker i met when i came back to the ARC, the one who had a smile for everyone and a laugh for every bad joke."

"I do my job."

"But it is your_ job_, not your life. You don't have to live youre job. If you don't take some downtime you are going to collapse, and then you wont be any good to anyone." She opened her mouth to speak but he gave her a shake. "When was the last time you took an hour for yourself?"

Jess found she couldn't answer. Lately it seemed like she worked from the moment she got out of bed until long after her head should have hit the pillow. Even her commutes too and from work were a blur she was often too tired to remember. Suddenly she felt vaguely depressed. All the work she had done, the extra hours she had put in and for what? Sure, the ARC operated more smoothly than it ever had, but what did she, personally, have to show for it? Nothing, except the man standing before her now hinting that everyone was getting sick of her behavior.

Becker could see Jess growing despondent and knew that depression was no healthy substitute for irritation. Hopefully he had something for that. Releasing her, he snagged his bag from the floor and unzipped it.

"So, Miss Parker, you are hereby under orders to take an hour to enjoy yourself. I'll have Lester back them up if I need to. I do need your help though, see.." From within the bag Becker extracted a massive bunch of bananas, golden yellow and fragrant. "I can't possibly feed all these to that overgrown elephant by myself."

.x.x.x.x.

They spent a pleasant hour seated on the observation deck. Becker produced from his bag a thermos of rich cocoa and they sipped the warming drink as they fed bananas to the ecstatic mammoth. Jess managed to unwind enough to laugh when the creature's trunk, questing for its next treat, tickled her leg. They chatted companionably, talking about this and that. Becker revealed that bananas were his personal favorite, joking that he'd been quite tempted to keep the large cluster for himself. They avoided the subject of work until just before they left when Jess contritely apologized for snapping at him earlier.

"If you promise to start taking it easy more often, we'll call it forgotten." Becker said. "For now we do need to get back to the Hub." He helped her to her feet, then shouldered his bag. Snagging the last banana, he peeled it, taking a large bite before tossing the rest to the mammoth. "Don't expect treats like this every day though, Dumbo."

"His name isn't Dumbo," Jess laughed as she led the way out of the Menagerie, a tiny mischievous smile playing at her lips. "I named him Hilary."

Behind her she heard Becker choke on his banana.


	10. Chapter 10

_prompt - Nurse Me, Connor and Abby - one character taking care of another._

* * *

They marked each day they were lost in the past. They knew exactly how many days since they left their home, what the date would have been in their proper year. Connor could even calculate what the local time in London would be. But Abby determinedly avoided holding a number in her head. If she didn't _know_, she could convince herself it hadn't been as long as it seemed. Or that it had been forever and she really ought to be used to it by now. Whatever she needed for the mood of the day.

But enough time had passed that the seasons were starting to change. The plants they foraged were past ripeness, migration patterns were changing. To avoid thinking about what it would be like back home in London, Abby focused on the need for a scouting mission. They would need to find new sources of food.

They left the shelter while the sun peeked wanly through the trees in the east. Abby would have preferred to go alone. Connor was getting better at moving through the forest with some stealth, but this morning the sound his boots crunching over twigs and tripping over moss-slicked stones was grating on her nerves.

She felt impatient with Connor lately and wasn't sure why. She wasn't annoyed with him (most of the time), but being around him make her feel restless, her skin tingling and her legs quivering like they'd run 5k. A quiet walk through the misty forest morning would have given her peace and time alone to think. Instead she hiked along with Connor trailing behind her, prickling with awareness each time she felt his eyes on her back.

Spotting movement in the distance, she waved Connor into a crouch. With a finger to her lips she motioned him to keep quiet and wait for her. Abby turned away so she wouldn't have to see him gesturing his insistence on accompanying her. She crept through the foliage until she spotted it, a ground-nesting avian species busily nudging twigs into a small hill on which to lay their young. Perfect, if this was a common nesting area, they'd be eating omelets again before long.

A sharp snap followed by some shuffling disturbed the peaceful scene and Abby cursed inwardly as the nest-builders fled into the forest. Connor was going to scare off every crawling creature they could eat, leaving only the creatures that could eat them.

With an exasperated huff she rose to her feet, spinning around smartly to march right over to Mr Connor Temple and ask him why such a genius couldn't follow simple instructions. In a fine state of fury, she viciously kicked the leaves covering the forest floor. Not paying attention to where she placed her feet, it was no surprised when she slipped on a mossy rock hidden beneath the disturbed leaves.

Abby didn't remember crying out as she fell, wrenching her ankle viciously, but as she sat on the ground swearing at herself for tripping and the stone for tripping her and the entire Cretaceous era for existing Connor was thundering towards her.

"Abby! Abby, are you okay?" he slid to his knees besides her, hovering anxiously but too afraid of hurting her to touch her so that his hands fluttered uselessly.

"I'm fine." She had to grit her teeth against the throb of pain. "I turned my ankle, it's nothing. Help me up."

Overriding his protests, she insisted he pull her up. Abby leaned on Connor as she carefully lowered her injured foot, and was glad for his support because before her toe ever touched the ground the rush of blood from standing made the pain excruciating. The only thing keeping her good leg from buckling was Connor's arms tight around her.

"Yeah," she tried to sound confident but her voice wavered "it's nothing. I'll just, uh, just sit for a minute till the pain passes.

Rolling his eyes at her stubbornness, Connor gently lowered her back to the ground. Where she would have stayed in the first place if she had listened to him. She was stubborn to a fault. But his irritation with her faded when Connor realized how white Abby's face had become. She was in pain, deny it though she would.

Sitting on the cool earth besides her, Connor gently took her leg and set it across his knees. Slapping away her hands as they tried to interfere, he gently untied her boots, slowly working the laces free and loosening the sides. Soon Abby's hands were too busy clawing the dirt as she fought the pain instead of Connor's help. He sucked in a breath and held it as he slid the boot off. Abby too held her breath through it, not reacting to the pain until she heard the boot drop. Then she began to swear.

By now Connor was used to hearing Abby's foul mouth. But during their first days trapped here, he had been shocked and frankly a bit impressed by her vocabulary. Still, it took a lot to get Abby to forget herself like that.

Examining her ankle, he had to choke back a few obscenities himself. Damn her, this was not _nothing_. It was already swollen to the size of a grapefruit and Connor's stomach turned a bit to think what colors those bruises would turn. And stubborn Abby Maitland was sure to try to walk it off if he let her. But he wouldn't. She was going to keep off that leg till it mended, if he had to bully her through every minute of it.

Abby had let her head fall back, her eyes closed as she panted. A small wave of coolness radiated up her ankle briefly before the sizzle of pain smothered it again. Cracking an eyelid she glanced down to see Connor packing soft cool dirt gently around her ankle. It was a tiny bit of relief anyway so she closed her eyes again with a tiny sigh and tried to will her body to unwind.

But the next moment Connor was scooping her up off the ground. She wriggled briefly, demanding to be put down but he refused and told her not to squirm so she didn't get dropped on her ankle, or her head. She tried to reason with him, insisting she could walk but the look he gave her said he was a bit insulted she actually thought Connor would believe that. Then she asked where he was taking her, they were miles from their camp, but he remained mute. She subsided when she realized he was focused on moving carefully, trying not to jostle her as he negotiated the uneven terrain.

A kilometer later, Connor's arms were burning and sweat was starting to trickle down his back. He sighed with relief when the he heard the sound of water through the trees. A few paces more and he could lower Abby to the grassy bank of the creek before he dropped her. Settling her beside the water, Connor briskly stepped into the frigid stream and rolled up his sleeves. groping about under the water, he searched out an stone.

Abby stared at him quizzically as he returned to her. She watched his dark head, glinting in the sun that was now above the trees, as he bent to his task before her. Setting the cobble down, he placed the heel of her foot upon it so the water could flow over her ankle. She squirmed a bit at the cold, and the current tickling her foot, but the fierce throb was turning to a tolerable ache.

Her mind off her pain for the moment, Abby began to fret about being stranded so far from their shelter. If anything crept up on them, Abby would be useless to help Connor defend her. She had to admit he had chosen a good spot. Large outcroppings cut them off from the bank upstream and down, the opposite bank was a wide grassy clearing that would let them see anything coming their way, and when she looked back the way they had come she couldn't fathom how Connor has carried her through the dense bramble at treeline.

Connor scouted around for threats and returned with a mound of the last berries of the season. As the sun passed its zenith the day warmed, but Abby on her shady bank, both feet now dabbling in the soothing water remained comfortable. That is she was until Connor, standing midstream with a spear poised for unwary fish, decided to remove his shirt. His lean body, with the sun beating down upon it, was harder and more defined than it had been. Abby was just forcing her eyes away when Connor's arm flashed and his spear hit the water.

He sloshed over to her looking well pleased with himself to triumphantly display the flopping silvery prize on the end of his spear. As Connor bustled about preparing a fire to cook the fish, Abby had to smile.

It had worried her that Connor was so unprepared for this life. The man had never even been camping properly before she met him. Abby had been unsure she could bear the burden of keeping both of them alive. She grew irritated because she worried that one day she wouldn't be there to keep him safe. But now she realized that each day she witnessed him adapting, learning, becoming a stronger and wiser man. He could take care of her when she needed it and wasn't too stubborn to refuse the help. They would help each other. They would be all right. They would survive.


	11. Chapter 11

AS Connor pulled his jumper on, he heard snuffling and felt a bump against his shin. When his head emerged from the garment he glanced down to see the diictodon at his feet, front paws perched on the bed. With a wiggle of his hindquarters Sid made an attempt to jump up but couldn't quite scramble up onto the mattress. Connor tried not to laugh as the creature tumbled back to the floor and rolled about awkwardly before getting back on its feet.

"This is what happens when you let yourself go, mate. You didn't used to have any trouble here, now look at you; you've gotten fat." Connor told the diict as he bent and lifted Sid up onto the bed. It was true, the small creature had gained a couple kilos. Sid however ignored the comments on his figure and set to making himself comfortable on Connor's duvet.

"Best watch yourself or Abby'll have you on a diet." Connor called back as he grabbed his hat and left the flat for the day.

—

Connor was tired when he made it home late that evening. An alert had kept him in the field for hours and when his handheld detector malfunctioned, it took ages to fix after their return to the ARC. Now, finally home, he dropped his bag as he entered his room and pulled his jumper off over his head. He stood in his undershirt for a few moments, flexing the stiff muscles in his neck, before he noticed the lump under the covers on his bed.

"Oi, Sid, time for you to go. I need me rest and I don't fancy sharing the bed with you." He grabbed a corner of the blanket and tugged it off the little creature. "Off you go. You'll find jumping down much easier than jumping up so don't expect any help from me."

Connor's brow furrowed in concern as the diictodon didn't respond to the sudden disruption to its cozy nest. Sid lay sprawled out on the bed. He didnt lift his head to regard Connor, only opened one eye to follow the human's movements. Kneeling down, Connor reached out to give him a pet but a disgruntled snuffle from Sid stilled his hand. Now he was worried. Sid loved a cuddle.

"Abby!" He yelled across the flat, "Abs come quick, something is wrong with Sid. I think he is ill!"

—

Connor paced restlessly across the floor behind Abby as she examined the creature. Every time he pivoted for another lap he released a tense sigh or cracked his knuckles. Abby wasn't sure what was more distracting, his hovering or Sid's continued attempts to nip at her fingers as she checked his temperature and breathing. Finally Abby decided she couldn't tolerate both and exiled Connor from the bedroom.

"Go tend to Nancy." The other diict had been crying outside the room since Abby had closed the door when she entered. "I'll just be a moment more."

"He'll be okay though, yeah?" He leaned in over her shoulder to peer at Sid, who utterly a shrill bark that made them both jump.

"Connor, go!"

Retreating to the corridor Connor sat against the wall and drew Nancy onto his lap. She was as restless as he felt and he was sure she could sense Sid's discomfort. Even with Connor's attention, she turned to paw at the door every few minutes, whimpering if soft worried squeaks.

When Abby finally emerged, Nancy shot off his lap and scrambled between her knees into the room. Connor jumped to his feet as well and regarded her nervously, wringing his hands. She was always a hard one to read but now her face was particularly impassive. His heart sank.

"Abby, is he..?"

"Sid's condition is serious, Connor. I am surprised I didn't notice it sooner, but we know so little about these creatures. I may have to take him into the menagerie, there's more resources there to care for him."

Connor dropped his gaze, his throat working. He'd gotten quite attached to the ugly little beaver-things. He'd never had a dog growing up but he thought the diicts were cooler than any puppy could be. Sid and NAncy, along with Abby, were Connor's little family and he wasn't sure how he would handle it if he lost any of them. Clearing his throat he looked at her again.

"Will he recover or, I mean,…" He swallowed a lump of emotion, unable to put words to it, and he looked down at his feet again.

Abby examined Connor for a moment; this man who was both brilliant and foolish and who felt everything so passionately. Placing her hand on his cheek, Abby took mercy on him.

"He'll be okay, I promise." Abby saw the doubt and worry in his eyes as they met hers. "Connor… Sid isn't ill. He's pregnant."

Connor's jaw dropped.

"Well, _she_ is pregnant, I should say." Abby said, her lips quirking. "IT didn't manifest quite like it does in reptiles so the thought never occurred to me. I thought he was just getting fat from all the treats you slip him when you think I'm not looking. But Sid isn't dying, he's in labor."

"But, Sid, not Nancy…?" His confusion was clear but Abby could sense the tension draining from him as his shoulders sagged in relief. She shrugged wryly.

"I was wrong about which was which when we first captured them. By the time I figured it out they were already responding to their names. It didn't seem important enough to sort out."

"So we're going to have an egg?" Connor said and Abby could see a smile starting to pull the corners of his lips up.

"Well, the fossil records never clearly indicated if the therapsids of that era laid eggs or gave birth to live young. I guess we'll be finding out for ourselves."

The grin had full control of Connor's mouth now. His glee was written across his face. With a pump of his fist and a crow of exultation, Connor spun in a circle. For a moment Abby wondered if he was going to start turning cartwheels in the corridor. But instead he grabbed her face, planted a joyous kiss on her lips and then enveloped her in a big hug. Lifting her off her feet he spun about once more.

"We're going to have a baby!" His happy laughter filled the flat until Abby couldn't help but join in.


End file.
